


Queen!?

by CharlemagneGryffis



Series: Souls Have Names [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, soulbonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 15:37:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2627030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlemagneGryffis/pseuds/CharlemagneGryffis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belladonna Baggins' Soul-Mate is a dwarf, and she knows it. She just didn't realize that the Dwarf she was the Soul-Mate of was  a King. - Soulbonds, Pt 2 of Souls Have Names.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen!?

Belladonna Baggins had always been the heart of the party. People called her the Dancing Nymph for a reason. Bella was popular, well-liked and one of the most respected Hobbits due to being a Baggins, the best dancer in all of the Shire, and one of the only people in Shire-History to have held first prize in the Best Kept Garden Competition since childhood all the way through to and past adulthood.

This, of course, obviously did not include the five years during and after the Fell Winter. There were no competitions for a long time after that terrible winter.

To the Hobbits, the only things about Bella that were less than looked-up to were her habits to absolutely ransack libraries and to never let herself become overly large. She took pride in her ability to dance, and kept in shape especially for it.

There was also the fact that her Soul-Bloom was a little different from the norm…or perhaps ‘very much different’ was a better term.

Like everyone on Arda, Bella had a soul-mate, but like the few times it happened, her Soul-Bloom, instead of being a coloured flower, the name of her intended inside the closed bud, was instead a set of runes. Dwarven runes, to be exact. Hobbits, were of course, very loving and caring to everyone they came across (except rude people, who they were only polite to), but when it came to one of their kind having a soul-mate among another Race, that Hobbit was very quickly labelled a spinster.

No Hobbit left the Shire in search of their Soul-Mate. It was just too dangerous.

Hobbits were creations of Yavanna, a peaceful Valar. They were grown from the very earth itself, and yes, while they were very compatible with dwarves and other races, in truth they were cowardly. Cowardice plus a naturally peaceful nature did not equal an adventurous Hobbit.

So of course, it was perfectly natural how Bella reacted to having twelve dwarves and a meddling wizard invade her home.

Bella was in utter shock, at how they would just barge into her home and ransack her pantry. That food had to last throughout the _entire winter_ and no-one could know if that winter would be like the Fell Winter. Yes, she had enough food to feed four other Hobbits, but- winter! The most dangerous time of year, and rightfully so in a Hobbits mind. Hundreds of Hobbits and Fauntlings had fallen to the terrible cold of the Fell, including Bella’s own mother and father.

Seeing the empty pantry made her want to break down.

“Stop, stop, stop!” She started to cry, immediately making everyone stop. She was further upset by how many handkerchiefs and doilies were held out to her, and only with Gandalf’s rough pushes, making them get out of her personal space stopped the tears falling, though they still stained her cheeks.

“Gandalf, why are you all here?” She asked, voice pitiful. The wizard’s face softened, and he knelt down – still taller than her – before putting a hand on her shoulder.

“All will be explained, Belladonna. Now, do not cry. A Baggins should keep their composure in front of guests, should they not?”

A reminder of her heritage would have done wonders, if not for the obviously empty pantry behind him. She whimpered, eyes looking into the empty room. Gandalf turned and almost immediately became angry.

“Dwarves of Ered Luin, have you no shame? Completely ransacking this young woman’s pantry when winter is coming on, it is quite shaming.”

Bella sniffed again as Gandalf went to continue, thankful for his help, but then there was a knock on the door. Gandalf stopped.

“He is here.”

He went to stand, but Bella took his wrist, giving him a glare worthy of her own mother before she stood straight, wiping her eyes and sniffing primly, dusting down her apron of remaining flour from her baking earlier in the day. Walking out of the kitchen, she opened the door and glared at the final dwarf.

“You’re late.” She said, to which he replied with his own glare.

“This land is a maze of epic proportions.”

She snorted. “You came from the west, yes? All you had to do was cross the bridge, go along the road for two miles, take a left, go through Farmer Brandybuck’s field, follow the left-to-right path for ten minutes, take three lefts, a right, a backwards turn, go around Daffodil Circus and take the ninth turning, go along the road for another eight minutes, take a sharp left and backwards turn, go for another eight minutes along the right road before turning left onto Bag Road – which would have brought you up the hill from the right.” She motioned to her right, his left, while he and everyone but Gandalf looked at her with befuddlement.

“How can you remember that all without becoming confused?” He asked, baffled.

She humphed. “Hobbit-kind started in the Middle of Arda. We made our way around the entire land anticlockwise before settling in the Shire, and knew exactly where we were the entire time. The Shire is childsplay. If any Hobbit got lost, it would be a miracle if they didn’t get sent to the doctor’s for a check-up. By the Valar! It isn’t that hard – now get inside. I think your friends left you some soup.”

Bella opened the door fully before moving out of the way. “And I would appreciate it if you didn’t wipe your feet anywhere other than the mat you’re now standing upon, like how you’re nephews wiped their _very muddy_ feet upon my mother’s glory-box – which, for their sakes, I shall tell you contains my mother’s wedding dress, and as such I do not want it to become muddy if I ever get to take it out.”

The dwarf gave her a raised eyebrow before looking to Fili and Kili, glaring slightly, prompting them to burst into apologies. Now back to normal, Bella breathed in deep and waved them off.

“No, none of that. Gandalf, this is your chance to explain what in Yavanna’s name is going on, or I will politely ask you to take your leave.”

The dwarf frowned at her. “Where is your husband?”

She shot him a glare. “My Soul-Mate is not a Hobbit, and I have never left the Shire. Ergo, no husband.” She brushed her hair over the runes self-consciously. “In any case, I doubt the dwarf whose name is behind my ear would want a Hobbit for a wife.”

Gandalf looked at her with a grin. “Oh, I would not be so sure, Belladonna Baggins. He himself has been quite curious as to why his own name has not appeared in the normal way.”

She ignored him, used to his taunts as she held out her hand to the dwarf. “Before we go any further – my name is Miss Belladonna Baggins, of the Shire.”

He stood up proudly. “Thorin Oakenshield.” He took her hand, shaking it, and went to speak only for both of them to suddenly cry out in pain.

Bella shook her head around, trying to make the burn behind her ear disappear. “What is happening?” She cried out as the dwarves surged forward, only for Gandalf to knock them down with his staff.

Thorin glared at her. “What are you doing, Hobbit?!” He asked, as she raised her free hand up to her ear, clamping it down behind it as tears streamed down her face.

“The name – it’s burning. Gods, it hurts. Make it stop, make it stop!”

At her words, Thorin blanched before he groaned in pain, other hand reaching blindly to his arm, trying to undo the strap holding a gauntlet there.

“Balin, what is happening to us?” Thorin asked, making the white-haired dwarf look at them both worriedly.

“It’s a Cross-Species Bond. You are Soul-Mates.”

Bella heard what he said and yelped. “What?!” She looked to where he was trying to unstrap his gauntlet and took her hand away from the burning name – fire and ice and _pain_ – to help him with the buckle, getting it undone in a jiffy. He slipped it off, pushing up his chainmail and sleeve to show a pulsing purple flower, whose buds were opening slowly.

“That’s Deadly Nightshade.” Bella gasped, both in surprise and in pain as, like lightning, black lines ran down across her neck and chest to her arm, going down it to Thorin’s hand. He let out a sharp noise of pain as it traversed onto his finger, connecting with the blooming Deadly Nightshade, outlining it as it opened up fully.

_Belladonna Baggins_

And then the line disappeared, a prick of pain starting on her palm before the pain completely disappeared. Immediately, Bella took her hand back, stumbling backwards as she turned, going up close to her handy beside-the-door mirror, looking at the Name behind her ear.

“Why is it outlined in purple?” She asked in a croaking voice, before she caught sight of the rune on her hand. “And what in Yavanna’s Green Garden is this?!” She turned, glaring at Thorin as he straightened up again, looking at the bloomed nightshade flower on his arm bearing Belladonna’s name in the middle.

“Mr Oakenshield, what is this?” She held out her hand, prompting him to look. He was silent for a few moments before he spoke.

“’Proud’.”

Bella looked at him in frustrated confusion. “What does that mean?” She waved her arms around, only for the one with the rune on it to be caught and turned over by Thorin, who stepped forward into her personal space.

He held up her hand, before speaking in a soft voice. “This rune is Dwarvish, Khuzdul. It means ‘proud’, and is the one word that can describe me in an instant. As your Soul-Mate, you gain this mark, and I gain yours.” He showed her his own palm, which held a different rune. “This means ‘selfless’, and it describes who you truly are in one word.”

Bella looked at his palm, speechless. He closed her hand, his own around hers.

“I swear on my birth-right, you shall be crowned in gold, and robed in blue, as is the age-old adage for Dwarvish Kings to their Queens.”

She blinked. “I beg your pardon? King? Queen? _Queen?_ What do you mean, ‘Queen’? I can’t be a Queen! I’m a _Hobbit_.”

As she continued in her tirade, Balin leaned up to Gandalf.

“This is our Burglar? Our future Queen? I do hope your realize what you’ve done.”

He shared a conspiratory wink with Balin. “Let’s just say that a Hobbit on the throne will do you well, and by coming on the Quest, she will learn her duties as Queen early – including how to deal with stubborn politicians.” He gazed back upon the now-arguing Soul-Mates.

Balin followed his gaze. “Oh yes, I can see that already.” _Slap_. “I think Dis will like her.”

Gandalf had an obscure vision of a Queen Belladonna and a Princess Dis meeting and automatically shuddered.

“The worst part is, Balin, is that this is not even a single fraction of her true potential.”

The two shuddered in unison, already imagining the two monsters that would become sisters-in-law.

“Poor Thorin.”

“Poor Thorin? Poor _everyone_.”


End file.
